Losing My Religion
by Ryrahd
Summary: KaixReiish. Song fic. A little incident involving a tree, a fall and an injured ankle brings Rei to contemplate some things, foremost of which is Kai. Sadish and sappyish. For the ML. R&R onegai.


A/N: It has been a while since I've written anything... for any fandom. Gomen, gomen. *Sheepish grin* I've been dealing with issues, too many of them at the same time, I fear. I don't think it would make a difference, but BOYXBOY INNUENDOES, leave if you dun like. Also, SUBTLENESS!!

Standard disclaimers apply; I do not own, you do not sue and we all come out happy-dory. Song by R.E.M.

* * * * * * * * 

****

Losing My Religion

__

Oh, Life is bigger

It's bigger than you

And you are not me

The lengths that I will go to

The distance in your eyes

Oh no, I've said too much

I set it up

"Put me down, you bastard! I can walk by myself; I don't need your help!"

My hollers seem to go unnoticed so I start kicking as well. Kai, who is carrying me slung on his shoulder, only grunts to show his discomfort and that, too, is muted. I hate that about him and that makes me want to kick him even harder. 

"Set me down this instant! I. Want. Down!" I emphasize each statement with another obtuse jab with my foot, the one that is not twisted. 

Kai stumbles on a stone so that I almost bounce. My nose crashed into his shoulder blade and for an instant all I know is his scent and feel. I know it was deliberate and that makes me see angry stars. I growl in retaliation and thump my fist on the middle of his back. He places one hand on my rear in a supportive manner that is anything but. My breath catches in my throat and I am unable to inhale air for the second time in less than a minute and all because of one individual. 

My foot feels numb at this point, tiny pinpricks just slowly popping up. Somehow, I barely notice that. His warmth is something that I wholly did not expect but it makes me feel protected. And I know, even if her doesn't say it, that he is not going to let me fall. I am grateful for that and it hurts. I hate him for it; I hate it that he gives it so freely without realizing it. He's so much more than people see him because he makes them believe otherwise, and they do; that is what I hate. 

Sometimes, when I allow myself to just sit back and look at the world from the outside, I can see it. I can see him struggling and I can see him trying. It shows in his eyes. I've discovered that his eyes almost glow of their own volition when he is determined on something. That glare can be very frightening if you are on the receiving end of it, something that I personally had the misfortune to deal with. That glare can melt your soul if you let it. It's almost comical to see him, so small against the vastness of the world trying to conquer _it_ before _it_ consumes _him_. Like swimming against the tide of time: daring, impossible, improbable, illogical but so ridiculously fun. I don't think he has noticed yet that he's too far-gone into all of this to turn back, and if he has, he's too stubborn and proud to admit otherwise. 

I can't help but be pulled in along with him, and I don't even think I mind that much. 

The _thud-thud _of his footsteps is distracting. I begin to notice the little things, like how the breeze is eerily warm for the middle of autumn and how quiet it is. It's almost like the world has shifted on its axes to accommodate the two of us. I want to shake my head at the notion. I feel very peculiar hanging off his shoulder, like I'm nothing more than a rag doll, an invalid. We're - or, rather, he - are walking along a street, a row of bright trees on the left and a quaint little park on the right. There are little children playing with the swing set, their laughter just barely carried by the wind. They do not notice the young man with another young man over his shoulder (a.k.a., us). Everything moves in its own fragment of time, deserving its own small purpose. The scene feels oddly animated but I don't have the time to ponder as to why because we are leaving that particular street and coming closer to my apartment. 

Kai's hand on my butt had remained there for the past ten minutes. I'm beginning to wonder whether he had forgot about it completely. And now another thought occurs: what if he's doing it on purpose, what if he likes his hand there? A flush spreads through to my cheeks without my volition. 

"Kai..." I growl but his name comes off my lips as a half-sigh, a prayer. I can feel the mortified colour in my cheeks deepening. Kai doesn't seem to notice for which I'm thankful. But the problem still remains; his hand still has not vacated my rear. I choose to ignore that. 

I tell myself that it is not as humiliating as it appears to be. Really. I can almost forget that my feet do not touch the ground, that I have foreign hands on my nether regions and that those hands belong to Kai. By the time we reach my apartment building I've almost managed to convince myself of that. 

I live alone in an apartment that is by most standards considered microscopic but is perfectly cozy to me. It's not like I have company over that often either. But this is different, special. This is the first time Kai's been to my home and the little self-conscious streak in me fidgets about the messiness of the place. I know it shouldn't, but his opinion matters to me. 

Before I even realize it, he's pulling my keys from somewhere on his person – since when does he have my keys? – and opening the door. He enters, closes the door with his foot and deposits his shoes neatly on the little mat beside the door, all without pause. He does not hesitate when he goes through my apartment, heading straight for the only other room beside the small kitchen and makeshift den: my bedroom. I still know that he managed to process this new environment and store it away for later scrutiny. It's one of the perks of conquering the world; you've got to know the territory. 

Inside my room I feel like a bucket labelled "embarrassment" has been dumped on me. I don't want him to see. This is my sanctuary, my heaven. He's alien and he does not belong and I don't want him to think that I'll allow him to. 

"You've carried me long enough! I demand to be put down!" I grumble for effect. I feel like the colour staining my cheeks is permanent. 

"Hn," he replies conversationally and sets me down on my futon with a gentleness I didn't think him capable of. 

"That's better," I say with a huff. The childishness of my response makes me want to cringe. I sound too flirty, too comfortable with him and the situation. We have not gone past that line that divides friends from enemies. In his eyes I will always be the enemy. Trust is very vital; if you don't trust then you don't have to depend on people and with independence comes a certain freedom. I'm not ready to give him my trust yet. 

He kneels beside me on the futon and reaches for my injured ankle. I hiss when he touches the foot and scuttle away. Kai glares at me, his lips purse as if he is putting up with eternal annoyance. 

"The least you could do to thank me is let me inspect your ankle." He says quietly but it sounds all too loud to me. 

My stomach twists with guilt and I extend my leg toward him instead of moving closer. He holds the appendage for a moment then begins to unravel the white cloth that had been used as a makeshift bandage. Dried blood and mud mars the white. Shame whacks me in the gut as I realize that it's his cape. I want to hide under my pillow. Instead, I turn my head to the side and entertain myself with the folds in my blue blanket. 

He murmurs something under his breath when the cloth comes undone but I can't catch it because it is spoken too softly. He touches his fingertips to the swell and it hurts for a second. I squeeze my eyes tight and bite my lip. He withdraws his hand but I can still feel it just above the swell, probing. 

"You shouldn't have been climbing that tree when you knew it was dangerous." His voice is reproaching, accusing and I have a sudden urge to hang my head in shame. 

"Yea, well..." I search for the right word to counterattack with "...I didn't ask you to help me, you know. I can deal with it on my own, thanks. I don't need you. So I slipped, so my ankle is twisted, so what? People are not perfect, they make mistakes, that's what makes us human. And I don't know if anybody has ever informed you of this but you are also human. You're not some god, not perfect, Kai." By the time I finish I manage to make myself sound surer than I actually am. 

"Hn." Kai tactfully avoids a battle. I don't say anything further, I think I've already said too much. I feel like a piece of lint – no, filth. 

He gets up and for a moment I wonder where he's going. Then I hear the faucet turning on in the minuscule kitchen. A minute later he comes back with a pan of water and a cloth. He retakes his place beside my leg and wets the rag, setting it against the swell. The water is cold against my flesh and involuntarily my toes curl in. I think he's colder. 

As he works on my foot, I note the hardening of his jaw, the steely look in his eyes. I know that he's distancing himself. He doesn't want to do this; he doesn't want to be the one that has to be here with me at this time. He's afraid that he'll hurt me, I can tell. He doesn't want to hurt me and I don't know why, maybe he doesn't too. So he hides. There is coldness and shells and I think that hurts me more than any physical pain could have. 

I know I shouldn't have been so harsh with him. He is doing this out of his own free will, not out of charity. I should be grateful. But neither one of us wants to be defenceless at this point. He doesn't want to show that he can actually care and I don't want to accept it because that would mean that I'm allowing him in. I want to open him up but it's too frightening. 

He's closing in on himself and I'm to blame. I think I knocked on the wrong door too many times. I think he's fearing that I'm getting too near him. He's guarded and so am I and he knows it. I am his enemy; he doesn't want to let me in. 

__

That's me in the corner

That's me in the spotlight

Losing my religion

Trying to keep up with you

And I don't know if I can do it

Oh no, I've said too much 

I haven't said enough

I thought I heard you laughing

I though I heard you sing

I think I though I saw you try

Maybe it was exhaustion or maybe it was just his presence hovering close to me, but at some point I feel asleep. As I wake up, my surroundings feel strange and for a moment I have this sensation of drowning. I can feel something decidedly odd and alien and altogether it is stifling. I don't see Kai but the blinds are drawn and warm light streams through the cracks in the bamboo. My blanket had been pulled over me and my outdoor jacket is removed. I don't want to check if anything else is removed. On the bright side, my ankle feels only sore instead of stinging pain.

I ask myself why this and why now and why me. I don't want this, I tell myself. I've breached onto unwelcome territory and now I've gone too far to retreat. I don't know if I can keep it up. 

My chest feels heavy and my breath is too thick. I think I might have caught a cold as well. I groan and allow my head to sink into the pillows. Some cosmic joke, or bad karma, had been played on me, I just know.

I hear something in the kitchen and immediately my barriers rise up. Instinctually I know that it is Kai but that does not take away the unease. The exact opposite, actually. I feel like I am standing on a dangerous precipice mere inches from the ceaseless edge and looking down. 

The clanking of cupboards and pans continues for another minute and I listen with bated breath. Then a distinct aroma wafts from the kitchen. I am reminded of lazy, rainy afternoons and enough food to dull the brain. My stomach growls in agreement. 

Another five minutes goes by when Kai renters my bedroom. I close my eyes and fist my blanket and pray that he goes away. He doesn't. I know that he's looking down on me from the doorway even though I can't see. I feel very self-conscious. His gaze tends to penetrate through even the toughest of shells. I don't want him to see through mine. I don't want him to know what is underneath. 

He doesn't turn on the light even though it's dark enough to do so. His light footsteps alert me of him coming closer. I pinch my eyes tight. He crouches down. The closeness makes me feel uncomfortable. I feel like the entire world had been reduced to just the two of us. I try to hide, try to shrink back but he is very persistent. His gaze is hot on my skin even though my eyes are closed. I've been put into the spotlight and left alone. I wonder what he is thinking right now. I wonder if what he sees is enough. 

The delicious smell is closer and the quiet clatter of bowls tells me that he put a tray beside the futon. My stomach growls again and I am instantly mortified. I can just imagine the smirk that is slowly stretching on his lips right now. I want to curse his eyes because they are so sharp and penetrating and because unwanted colour and heat spreads into my cheeks and ears. I am too embarrassed to open my eyes. 

"You should eat," he says and sure enough there is amusement in his voice. 

I pout despite the gesture being infantile. "I don't want to." My statement is punctuated with another stomach growl. 

Kai laughs and I'm struck unawares by the sound. My eyes fly open and zero in on his face. The change is barely visible, just in the corners of his eyes and along his lips but I'm shocked nonetheless. I've never heard him laugh before; I didn't think him capable of something so simple. My breath hitches up and I study him carefully. 

"I need to train," I say a long moment later and my voice sounds all too weak. "I need to get better, stronger and I need to do it as fast as possible. What I don't need is wasting time here, so don't you dare pamper me."

The hint of a smile is till stretched on his lips. I'm terrified by it. Yet, at the same time, from the moment I saw it I couldn't help but feel addicted. 

"You can't get better if you don't have your strength, and especially if you can't walk," Kai says with mock seriousness. 

I think I've been losing my faith in humanity. With everything that is happening around the world, I think that people are no more than animals. It is a terrible feeling. I don't know where I fit in anymore without my faith. It defines me just as surely as some peoples' religion defines them. 

But here is Kai, doing something so characteristically unlike him and I think everything I've come to believe is being shattered. I thought that there was no more kindness, but him – the guy that is famous for his frigidity – showing it is overwhelming. I think I'm losing to him. I think I want to lose. He is too much. 

I know that he doesn't have to do this, but the fact that he is here in the first place makes me feel guilty. "I didn't know you could cook," I grumble and reach for one bowl. 

He shrugs and offers me a spoon and piece of bread. I take them cautiously. I'm still wary of him and he accepts that. 

"Instant noodle soup? Terribly original, Kai," I snort and prod the warm broth with a bit of bread. 

He grunts and reaches for his own bowl and spoon. "Hn. You're not exactly a food mart."

We eat in silence. I strain hard not to let my spoon hit the edges of the bowl too loudly. Any word exchanged could and probably will be hazardous. I don't want Kai to be scared away. He's running away, not from me, not now at least – but the world. He sees his path so clearly and distinctly that he runs toward its end. But he leaves me behind. I'm trying to keep up with him but it is hard. 

After a while and once our bowls are both empty, he gets up and turns on the radio on my dresser. I don't have a TV set but I don't think it matters that much. He asks me whether my ankle feels sore and I reply that 'no, it doesn't'. He doesn't say anything else, but that matters as much as my absence of a television. I think he was trying to open up to me and at the thought I feel almost dizzy. 

We sit there in my room, listening to old songs on the radio as the light outside grows dimmer. Soon, my room is almost completely dark but neither of us attempts to turn on the light. I hope the doesn't notice my smile. 

__

Every whisper

Of every waking hour I'm

Choosing my confessions

Trying to keep an eye on you

Like a hurt, lost and blinded fool

Oh no, I've said too much 

I set it up

Kai leaves for his own apartment at ten to midnight after making sure that I have his phone number and enough medicine to cure an illness much more serious than a twisted ankle. I can't sleep for most of the night. When I finally do sleep, my dreams are full of colour. 

The next morning I am awakened by a strange sound. At first I don't know where to place it and dismiss it as just a remnant of my last dream. Which reminds me, that particular vision was very nice and I want to return to it. I curl into ball on my side and hug an extra pillow close. I note gladly that my ankle feels mostly normal. 

Another sound drifts from the vicinity of the other room, which is the small makeshift den that is separated from the kitchen by a partition. Then I hear the crackling of vegetable oil in the frying pan and I smile dazedly. If I'd been more awake then perhaps I'd be slightly concerned because it's not every day that I wake up to somebody making me breakfast. However, this particular morning, I feel gloriously light-headed and I doubt I could be persuaded to more even if the food proffered to me was godly. 

Kai comes in half an hour later but by that time I don't even hope to feign sleep. He's carrying a tray for me, on which I spot a glass of orange juice. For a second I wonder how he knew that I always drink orange juice in the morning. He shoves the tray under my nose and I completely forget about anything else. 

I smile brightly at him and he stares at me funnily. Perhaps he'd never seen me smile but that couldn't really be. I smile all the time; he'd seen me do it many times. So then maybe he can tell that my smiles are usually fake and he's just not used to a genuine one? 

"'Morning," I say and some of the sleepiness reflects in my voice. 

He gives me a tentative, almost shy smile in return and murmurs a greeting. I am pleased to see him this morning, even though I know it is wrong of me. 

"How is your ankle?" Kai asks. 

The mood is stiff and polite, awfully quiet in the already silent apartment. I feel like a high school girl with a crush on the senior boy's football quarterback. I remember to store every word that is exchanged between us carefully in my memory banks because every word counts, every word is sacred.

"Better," I reply and bite onto the first slice of toast. Then I ask out of curiosity, "Where did you learn to cook." 

He shrugs. "I lived in Hokkaido for a long while because of training. I used to go on a lot of outings just by myself in the mountains. There wasn't anyone else but me so I had to depend on myself."

I nod in understanding and continue with my breakfast. 

He removes a section of the covers so that my upper body is covered and my legs are exposed. I flush coyly because my legs are bare. When he left yesterday night, I checked to see if any clothing had been removed and discovered that I was sporting only my dark boxers and a t-shirt. The thought of him removing my clothing is almost scandalous and brings a nervous knot into my stomach. 

"What did the others say when they heard?" I ask to conceal the fact that I can't eat with him prodding my foot like that. (Oh God, oh God. One of his hands is on my thigh! Oh, God!)

Kai shrugs one shoulder and doesn't look up when he answers. "The Blockhead nearly had a hysteric fit. I thought he was going to burst on all sides from laughing so hard. He said he'd missed the funniest thing in the world." Here Kai smirks and shoots a sultry look my way. I puff up and turned to glare at the opposite wall. "Blondie and the Chief send their condolences."

"Shows what kind of good friends _they_ are," I grumble and some of the childishness creeps back into my voice.

He grins in return and ties another bandage around my ankle. He is more skilled than I expected and that makes me a bit uncertain. Not even twenty-four hours has gone by and already I think of him differently. He's not an icicle, he's just shelled up, defensive and even scared. But he is also wonderful, which makes me doubt that he has a supposed heart of stone. If I get any closer, I think I'll get burned but that works the opposite way and now I think that getting closer is the only option. 

I decide to follow what I started yesterday. I can feel my reality shifting around me, taking another shape. I wasn't as I was before, even yesterday. I want to give him a chance; I want to see the real him.

I watch him as he applies the final touches to the bandage. I know that it is not wise to trust your enemy, but I am willing to try. And I also know that I'm a confused fool for wanting him to accept me but I really can't help it. I've gone too far already and I am thankful for it. 

__

Consider this

The hint of the century

Consider this

The slip that brought me

To my knees failed

What if all these fantasies

Came flailing around

Now I've said too much 

I thought that I heard you laughing

I though that I head you sing

I think I though t I saw you try

Almost a week has gone by now. I'm back to full health and on my feet. The episode is all in the past now. But I think I have gained something more valuable than gold into those few lazy days. 

I can tell that things are not the same between Kai and I. It feels almost like a purity in the air, a crispness that is both painful and pleasant. It is like a dance between us. He steps in closer and so do I. He pulls back and I am with him. We shift on the dance floor that is life and with us so does reality. I don't see him as my enemy anymore, and I only hope that he feels the same way about me. 

I don't know why, but the world seems brighter, clearer. I notice things more concretely. The people that pass me on the streets have faces and voices; they're real, individual. The sky is vibrant, full of colour rather than just blue or grey. It's almost like waking up for the first time.

I think that he has become my world. I think he might have always been. 

But then something happens. I don't even know what. He doesn't look at me the same; his words are clipped and leave stings along my skin. I feel like I'm losing my grasp on him and it hurts. It is strange because he was never mine to begin with. All that was seems nothing more than a phantasm now and even that is escaping me. 

He's withdrawing and it hurts so much so that I can barely breathe. My feet on the ground weigh a tonne and every step is heavy. I'm walking away to nowhere I belong but I don't really care because I can't see anything anyway. A little girl I've never seen before is tugging on my hand and tells me not to worry. I smile at her but my face feels plastic. I tell her that nothing is wrong, that I'm alright and that everything was just a figment of my imagination so I got a little scared.

I failed; I've gone too far. I thought that he was trying, I think he might have thought so, too. But I've come too close and that was too much. 

__

But that was just a dream 

Try try try try

That was just a dream

Just a dream

Just a dream

Dream

I walk down the hall into the bey stadium. The cheering of the crowd brings a smile to my face. I had not realized how much I've missed the masses crying out my name, being in the spotlight. Takao runs out ahead of everybody and does a little pre-victory dance. We all laugh at his antics. As I take my usual position under the hooded setting area, I am aware that Kai is mere feet away from me. He is glaring forward, trying to conquer the world with those eyes. 

When he passes me for his battle, I don't look at him. My eyes are focussed overhead, where the announcer is. My jaw is clenched tightly, as is my fist around my 'blade in my pocket. Likewise, when I take the podium for my battle, he doesn't look at me and I know there is steel in his eyes. 

"I have a Drigger in my pocket and I'm not afraid to use it," I say with a grin intended toward my opponent. I don't feel the amusement, however; only the attack ring of my beyblade as it digs into my palm. 

I think I had been dreaming the entire time. Maybe I'm still dreaming. Everything that had happened was just an illusion, a pretty dream. I am not sad to let it go because dreams, after all, are not meant to remain forever and are not real so they should not express any emotion. It hurts, however, and I think I know why. 

* Finis* 

Yay! This is the first piece that I've finished in months!! *does cheer dance* Go, go me!


End file.
